


You’re Being a Stubborn Idiot Again

by SheabeePrime



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Dancing giant robots, F/M, Female!Reader - Freeform, Fluff, I Guess That's My Thing Now, It's 6am and I can't think of any other tags, Kinda, MARETU - Freeform, Miko is a bro, Robots Dancing, Sweet, The story title is a lyric, Vocaloid - Freeform, acutally, gender-neutral!reader, good vibes, megurine luka - Freeform, more to be added later - Freeform, no beta we die like men, probably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28505793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheabeePrime/pseuds/SheabeePrime
Summary: “Oh my gosh, Y/N! What was that?” His voice was its usual bubbly self that you still managed to find endearing despite how the situation made you sick.“What was what?” You asked, trying to play it close to the vest.“Those moves! I’ve never seen a human, or another bot, move like that.”You shifted uncomfortably under the seatbelt as he careened out of the lot and down the road.“You mean the dance? Cybertronians don’t have dancing?”“I mean, we do a little, but not like that!”Just a normal fic where the reader knows and performs vocaloid dances as part of their university’s club. When their Autobot partner, Smokescreen, finds out, however, shenanigans ensue. And maybe you’ll catch a glimpse of Smokescreen as a voacaloid dancer. Who knows?
Relationships: Smokescreen (Transformers)/You, Smokescreen/Reader
Kudos: 12
Collections: Secret Solenoid '20-'21





	You’re Being a Stubborn Idiot Again

**Author's Note:**

> This is for sunshineandcybertronians on tumblr, as part of the 2020/2021 Secret Solenoid Exchange! I hope you enjoy. I took the prompt in a different direction that I'm sure you anticipated, but I think you'll still like it. Also, the dance referenced in this piece can be found here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=etRJdw4CQnQ

  


The University of Nevada at Jasper was such a small school. Very small. In fact, it was so small that you were pretty sure the local high school’s graduating class was going to be bigger than your own. Most people who went there were locals too. Thus, when you moved into the dorms you were shocked, and maybe a little disappointed, to find that there was no need for you to have a roommate. They had lots of space, extra space even, so there was no point to double up the rooms. In the end, though, it was a good thing. It meant you had plenty of privacy. 

Regardless of the school’s size, you moved all the way from Reno to go here for one reason and one reason alone: their highly reputable Japanese Studies program. It was amazing that a university of this size would have such a niche program, but you weren’t complaining. Well, maybe a little. Life here was very different from that in a bustling city as big as Reno. Very boring. Still, the quality of the professors who taught there and the education you were receiving made it worth it. 

That and the giant alien robots. 

Yeah, that wasn’t something an everyday college student could say. As a matter of fact, that was something no other college student could say. No one else hung around, or even knew about, the 25-foot-tall autonomous robot organisms from the planet Cybertron you called friends except for a select few. That included you, a former black op operative, three high school kids (or was one in middle school?), and one of their Moms. That list was a little longer than it should be for robots supposedly being in disguise, you thought. And it was a weird list. But it worked, so no one mentioned it. 

You met the Autobots via Miko. For someone who hated school, she could be quite studious. She would tutor some of the Japanese Studies majors for extra cash, since that was her native culture. You’d be embarrassed to have someone so young acting as your tutor, but there weren’t any other options. She was probably the only person who had actually been to Japan in all of Jasper, let alone was from there. So, you were one of her students. 

One day you just so happened to catch her talking to Bulkhead in his vehicle mode after a lesson. It was weird. They were flat out having a full conversation outside of your window. So, you asked questions. Too many, apparently. But, like, who wouldn’t have? It was a talking car! Anyway, the point is that she cracked. Well, that’s a lie, Bulkhead cracked first, but that’s not the story they decided to tell everyone else and you weren’t going to snitch. Regardless, now you were also sworn to secrecy as part of team Prime. 

Today Smokescreen was coming to pick you up after your afternoon class ended. Optimus had assigned him to be your partner and boy was that a mistake on his part, because you had somehow formed a huge crush on young Autobot. That’s right, you were head over heels for an alien robot. A giant alien robot. Like, how would that even work? It was a ridiculous crush and it was never going to be, yet you couldn’t make it go away. It was quite the opposite. Everything Smokescreen did seemed to only make your feelings for him grow. He showed you a sort of kindness that you had never known. He seemed excited about things you were interested in and you didn’t know how to react to that. Your parents had never really cared for your interest in other cultures, let alone support it. You found your heart racing just thinking about how special he made you feel. 

So, there you were, sitting on the concrete trimming of the brick wall outside your dorm room, blushing like a fool thinking of the hot bot with blazing 28’s while kicking your heels nervously on the brick. That’s when someone called your name. 

“Hey! Hey, Y/N!” 

You spun your head around so fast that it gave you whiplash. 

“Oh hey, Andrea. What’s up?” You asked, trying to get the pink in your cheeks to die down. 

Andrea was the President of the Vocaloid Club. The cool thing about going to a university with such a strong Japanese Studies program was all the very awesome cultural clubs that related to that major. You had always been a fan of vocaloid music, even had one or two video games for it in your early teens, so you eagerly signed up for her club during your first club fair at UNJ. Now you were on the list to be voted in as vice president next semester. 

“I was just walking to the dance studio and thought I’d swing by your dorm to see if you’d care to join me? You’ve missed the last two practices for the club’s recital on Friday and, no offence, but I’d like to see what you can do just to be sure that you’ve been keeping up,” she said. 

You wanted to take offence, but honestly, you _had_ totally ditched the practices she spoke of to hang out with the Autobots. You made up some b.s. about how your boyfriend was sick and you needed you to take care of him. Which wasn’t a complete lie, you supposed. Smokescreen had gotten hurt in battle and you were helping him recover. Ratchet _did_ say company would keep his mind from wondering and doing something stupid. Plus, you made sure that he changed his bandages and everything of that sort. On the other hand, the lie was absolutely just that, a lie. Smokescreen wasn’t your boyfriend. Not by a long shot. What would a human like you have to offer him anyway? But, yeah. When you were at the base, the last thing you did was practice your dance.

Although the bots knew about your major, they did not know you listened to vocaloid music, let alone performed the choreographed dances to it as part of a vocaloid club. And you wanted to keep it that way. You were embarrassed as to what they might think. They were already both intrigued and disgusted by human culture, and this was something even other humans would sneer at. So, nope. No way. You didn’t want anyone to find out. And thus, you let your practices slack. Which was stupid because you knew if you performed poorly no one was going to take you seriously as a candidate for the club’s vice president. But hanging out with the Autobots was precious time to you. It wasn’t hard to choose. 

“Uh, sorry girl, I’m actually waiting on my boyfriend to pick me up now. He should be here in, like, twenty minutes or so. I wouldn’t be able to make it back from the studio in time if I went with you,” You said, twirling a strand of your hair around in your fingers. An anxious habit you hated. “Maybe tomorrow?” You shrugged and looked down. You felt bad, but not bad enough, apparently. 

Andrea smiled in a mischievous way that made your stomach drop. You were obviously not going to like what she had to say next. 

“Well, that’s okay! There is enough space out here to practice while you wait. Twenty minutes is plenty of time to run through the motions at least twice,” She said, gesturing to the large grassy area that was laid out between the wall and the road. 

_Shoot,_ you thought. There wasn’t really a way out of this one. 

“Umm, okay. Do you have a speaker on you?” You asked, hoping she would say no.

In typical Andrea fashion, she easily produced not just one, but a _set_ of speakers from her drawstring bag, setting them out to get the best sound quality. 

The song you chose was Gravtiy = Reality by Megurine Luka. Personally, you were more partial to Maretu than Luka, but the Gravity = Reality dance was intense and very fun. Plus, it was a song most of your peers would know and could groove too. 

You stood in your starting position, waiting anxiously for the song to begin. You could feel the sweat stain your palms and your knees buckle. You didn’t know how this was going to go. You hadn’t practiced in a while and were completely caught off guard. But as soon as the music flowed from the speakers found yourself easily falling into the routine. 

You had the intro down pretty well, minus the way you held your hands, but that was just a detail you had time to iron out. You nailed the first verse too. Your moves easily ebbed into one another without missing a beat. It was like you lost control of your body to the music, every step falling right into place. Andrea almost seemed impressed. 

And that was when Smokescreen decided to show up.

You caught a glimpse of his sleek alt. mode pulling into the parallel parking spots along the road right as the second verse started. His blue, white, and red colors were dazzling in the afternoon sun. 

_Oh no! He’s early!_ You thought, panicked, allowing your mind move away from the dance just long enough to trip over your own feet, stumbling out of time. 

Andrea just raised and eyebrow and gave you that _look._

“Sorry, sorry, I got distracted,” You said, pointing your thumb towards Smokescreen, whose engine was rumbling with a beautiful sort of hum in the distance. 

“That’s okay. We can start over. Since your ride is here, I just want to see you go through it only once. If he won’t get fussy, that is. I know how boys are,” she replied with a wink. 

Heat began to rise from your stomach to your cheeks, scorching you from the inside out. You just _knew_ Smokey was watching you, probably wondering what you were doing. If he had been in route form you could imagine the adorable look of confusion he’d be wearing. But you really didn’t want him to know. You opened your mouth to object to another round, maybe try to make a quick escape, but Andrea had already begun to restart the music. 

Darn. 

Reluctantly, you began to dance. You tried to put a mental block on the fact that your _crush_ was _watching_ you act out your worst nightmare. That you were revealing your long-held secret. But it just kept coming up. Somehow you made it through the routine, but nowhere near flawlessly. Your movements were robotic and gritty. Several times you were off time. Occasionally you added a step or took one away. It was a disaster. 

“Well, Y/N, that wasn’t bad, but I really suggest getting some last-minute practicing in. That wasn’t on par with our performance level standards,” Andrea said, packing up her speakers. 

You looked away, tears pricking at your eyes with shame. 

In a moment of pity, Andrea approached you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Look, I get it. New boyfriends are important. But don’t let him take away what’s important to you. We really need you to pull through for this recital. You skipping practices has been hard on all of us. Just…practice. Okay? And hopefully it’ll work out. I believe in you,” she said, giving you a soft smile. 

You tried to return the sweet gesture, put your lips wouldn’t curve upward. Slowly, you trudged towards the living metal that was waiting for you, not looking forward to having to explain what just happened. 

Smokescreen popped his door open and you slid in wordlessly, hoping he would take a hint. 

He didn’t. 

“Oh my gosh, Y/N! What was that?” His voice was its usual bubbly self that you still managed to find endearing despite how the situation made you sick. 

“What was what?” You asked, trying to play it close to the vest.

“Those moves! I’ve never seen a human, or another bot, move like that.”

You shifted uncomfortably under the seatbelt as he careened out of the lot and down the road.

“You mean the dance? Cybertronians don’t have dancing?”

“I mean, we do a little, but not like that!”

You sighed, “I know, it was terrible. I need to practice more. I’ve just wanted to hang out with you, ya know? But I have this recital and-”

He cut you off.

“Wait, you think that was bad?” He asked, voice fizzing through the stereo system.

You nodded sheepishly, eyes darting from the digital console on the dashboard, where you always assumed his face would be, to the window, and then back to the console again. 

His vocalizer sputtered and momentarily glitched out in what you could assume was a sign of shock. 

“Y/N,” Smokescreen started once he’d regained control of his voice, “I thought it was amazing! I thought, no I think, that _you_ are amazing. I wish I had the ability to dance like that! I might be able to transform my body from a mech into a vehicle and back into a mech again, but I still can’t do anything close to what you did!”

“You really think so?”

Smokescreen vibrated your chair a little bit, something you had come to take as a form of comfort. “Of course I do, Y/N. I bet you’ve worked so hard. When were you going to show us?”

You sunk into the chair a little lower, embarrassment washing over you. This is not how you thought this conversation was going to go at all. And that was good, all things considered, but it made you look like a jerk for keeping it a secret.

“Never?” You squeaked. 

“What? Why?!” Smokescreen exclaimed, screeching to a halt at a red light, jostling you back into an upright position. 

“I just…I didn’t think it was worth sharing,” you said. And it was true…well, partially true. A fine enough answer, you thought, but Smokescreen’s silence said otherwise. 

You sighed, “It’s just personal, I guess. And if I had planned on showing you, it wouldn’t have been like that! With me all distracted and…stuff,” you trailed off, hoping he wouldn’t catch the way your voice went up an octave and your hands fumbled with your hair. Your body was doing that thing again. The one where it makes your stomach flop and fills your chest with butterflies that make your head spin around. 

“What was distracting you?” he asked innocently. 

You blushed. You considered lying for a second, but now that’s the truth’s out, you might as well come all the way clean.

“You,” you said, twirling a strand of hair tighter between your fingers. 

“Oh.”

Maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, but you could almost feel the interior of his car get warmer. Suddenly, there was an awkward silence between you two where the world seemed to stand still. How could you be so close, with you literally inside of him, yet also be so far apart? 

“Uh, the light’s green,” you said, breaking the trance. You realized you had been playing with your hair and immediately dropped it. 

_Stupid habit,_ you thought. 

“Right,” he replied, taking off once again. 

The rest of the ride was relatively uneventful, and you thought the topic of your dance was behind you. Turns out, you were wrong. Very wrong. It seemed that happened a lot recently. Maybe there should be some sort of award for that, for how wrong you were. Because the first thing the young Autobot did when you two arrived at the base, besides transform, was announce what he had learned to the whole world. 

“Hey, Miko, did you know Y/N could dance?” He shouted across the common area.

The way all eyes snapped to you made you groan. You immediately shoved your face into your hands and, for just a moment, tried to disappear. 

“No way! What’s your style? Jazz? Hip Hop? Modern?” Miko asked with her usual belligerent excitement. 

“Uhh, well, none of the above. I do vocaloid dances,” you replied, trying to stay nonchalant about the whole thing. 

“Vocaloid?” She asked, nose twitching.

An unsettled feeling filled your gut. This was it. This is what you were afraid of.

“Yeah, uh, vocaloid. Don’t tell me you’re from Japan and aren’t familiar,” you said, trying to keep your composure cool and collected. 

Miko shook her head.

“No, I am, I just wasn’t expecting _that_ to be your answer.”

You opened your mouth to reply, probably something defensive because, despite how neutral her words were, you felt very attacked right now, when Smokescreen cut in.

“What’s vocaloid?” he asked. 

You and Miko shared a look before racing to the lounge, trying beat each other to the computer to pull up YouTube. Fortunately, you won.

“Vocaloid is a singing synthesis software created by Yamaha. It stands for Vocal Android,” you started, fingers flying across the keys of the computer to pull up an appropriate song. 

Miko rolled her eyes, but thankfully it was in a way you determined to be playful. 

“Basically, it’s a computer program which you can use various singing voices to create songs. Each voice has an animated voice actor that often dances along too,” Miko added. 

“Right. That’s what my dances are based on.”

Miko turned to face you.

“Who’s your favorite? No, actually, let me guess? Hatsume Miku?” She smirked. 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. 

“Actually, it’s Maretu,” you replied, more confident than before.

Miko put thought to this. “Not a bad choice. Honestly, I’m not a fan of any of it. To bubblegum for me. But at least you have cultural appreciation, or whatever,” she said.

Smokescreen looked between you two like you were speaking an alien language, and he knew most of Earth’s languages. 

“Here, listen to this,” you said, putting on one of your favorite songs: Mind Brand by Maretu. 

You did a little head bob at the song began to filter through the speakers around the base. Honestly, you had no idea what was being said. Maretu sang the Japanese still to fast for you to understand. But clearly it wasn’t what you thought, by the way Miko with snickering. 

“What is it?” Smokescreen asked before you could.

“She just said, ‘Don’t tell me you’re being a stubborn idiot again?’ What a mood,” Miko answered, now in a fit of giggles. “This just so doesn’t seem like you, Y/N. I actually like it though,” she added. 

You smiled with pride. But, by now Smokey was growing impatient. 

“Play the song that you danced too! I want to show you off! Errr, I mean, I want you to show your moves off…” he said, throwing a hand behind his neck in what appeared to be a nervous gesture, but you couldn’t tell. 

You sighed, trying to settle the stubborn of anxiety that was bubbling to the surface. 

_Don’t worry, these are people who care about you. They won’t laugh,_ you repeated in your mind. 

“Fine. Miko, can you play Gravity = Reality?” You asked nicely, walking down to the lower floor near the ground bridge to perform.

Miko nodded and cued up the music as the both bots in the base gathered around.

You tried to allow the familiar tune to take you over as you began to dance, but with each step you too the ground seemed to rumble, throwing you off. It took you a hot minute to realize the ground actually was moving, because there was Smokescreen, standing behind you trying to mimic your motions.

You stopped short and laughed.

“Smokescreen! What are you doing?” You asked, wearing the biggest smile you had pulled off all day, the kind that made your cheeks hurt. 

Smokescreen gave you a goofy smile back. 

“I want to learn too!” he exclaimed. 

The room reverberated with laughter. Even Optimus let out a chuckle at that. But you could tell Smokey was both serious and determined. 

“Well, technically _I’m_ supposed to be the one practicing, but they say teaching is the best way to really learn the material, so I’d be happy to show you. 

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon listening to Luka, and eventually more Maretu, while hopping around the base. Smokescreen wasn’t as bad of a dancer as you figured he would be, but there were still movements in the routines designed for humans that he could not pull off in the same way. Regardless, watching him attempt to swivel his hips and gloss his hands over his body repeatedly did have a special kind of charm. A charm that made you feel like you needed to dump ice water down your back or something. He really knew how to turn you on, and he seemed oblivious to it too, which almost made it worse. Anyway, despite your “pain,” the two of you had fun, and in the end isn’t that all that mattered? Occasionally Bumblebee or Bulkhead would try to join in, but by the end of the night it was still just you two together, having a blast. 

One of the best parts about the whole situation too was that you and Smokescreen went through the motions so many times that you were sure you had that routine down, maybe even better than the animated vocaloid singer herself! You bet you could do that dance in your sleep. Screw going to practice, you should have tried to teach the Autobots how to dance a long time ago! Now you were a shoo-in for the vice president position. And then, one day, you bet you could even take Andrea’s place. 

But it was also tiring. The kids had long since gone home by the time you curled up on the old couch in their lounge area, feet feeling dead to the world beneath them. 

“Y/N, we really should get you home,” Smokescreen said, as you stretched out on the couch with a yawn. 

“Five more minutes,” you replied, closing your eyes. 

You feel his warm metal fingers brush against your cheek, pushing hair out of your face. You tried to hide your weak smile, but you’re almost positive he saw it, cause next thing you know he’s delicately picking you up and placing you on his shoulder. 

You curl up even further on him and he gives a hum of contentment. 

“Thank you, Y/N. I had fun today. The ‘cons have been ruthlessly on our tail lately and…I needed a day like today to lighten my mood. I need a person like you to keep me going, really. Only you seem to get me,” He rambled. 

You nodded absently in agreement, trying to get comfortable on his shoulder and go back to sleep. 

Some time passed and you suppose he thought you finally fell into a deep slumber, given your stationary form, because next thing you now you feel his lips gently rest on you’re the crown of your head.

“I love you, Y/N,” he murmured.

The room falls quiet again, and his warm metal is so soothing that you do eventually fall asleep, but not with a lingering thought chasing you into your dreams: _I love you too, Smokescreen. I love you too._

  


**Author's Note:**

> There it is! It was strange but I had fun writing it! Sorry if it's a little late!


End file.
